


I Was? Am? a Psychic

by Idreamofhazel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 12x04, 12x04 meta, Gen, Helpful Sam, Psychic Abilities, Psychic Sam, Sam's connection to Magda, Self-Hatred, sam winchester meta, season 12 meta
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-23
Updated: 2016-12-23
Packaged: 2018-09-11 12:22:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8979535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Idreamofhazel/pseuds/Idreamofhazel
Summary: A piece of meta that has been floating around in my brain since this episode aired. I’m one of those Sam girls that believes his powers have never really gone away. I never had the time to write this, but then my brain reminded me of it suddenly and the inspiration hit. So, here’s some psychic!Sam for you.





	

Waking up from the blow to his head was quicker than usual, because as soon as Sam opened his eyes, he saw blood-red markings scarring a young girl’s back. That was enough to wake anyone up.

He asked if she was Magda Peterson, because she looked an awful lot like the girl in the picture he’d seen, but she said she wasn’t anymore. She believed herself to be the devil. But when she said she could hear what people were thinking, Sam had a hunch, and so he asked her to show him her powers. He didn’t know if she would trust him or not, but he had to try. This girl was hurting much like he had been so many years ago. He was never physically beaten, but he had done similar internal damage to himself for the evil that he believed to be coursing through his veins.

When the cross lifted into the air, and he had flashbacks of moving the cabinets to get to Dean, he knew.

“Magda, you’re not the devil, you’re just psychic. There are others out there like you, like me. I have powers too, I’d get these visions, sometimes, and I could move things with my mind.” The words flew out of his mind without much thought even though it had been so long since he’d even considered his powers. He didn’t know whether to use present or past tense because the powers had laid dormant for so long.

“You can do that?” she asked, her voice tiny inside the musty cellar, pleading for a new identity. She didn’t want to be the devil anymore.

That question made him stop and think. That was the operative question, wasn’t it? Could he or can he? Ever since Dean killed Azazel, Sam hadn’t seen a hint of his powers. Well, that wasn’t entirely true, but Sam had ignored them every chance he got because they weren’t really important to him. He never wanted them in the first place and they were the reason he’d felt like a freak. Then there was Dean dying and the demon blood and the apocalypse and being soulless and well, he hadn’t had time to think about his powers, let alone try to exercise them to see if they’d come back. He wouldn’t know what the point of that was if he’d tried, anyway.

But then, he thought back to the other day when he could’ve sworn that a book page had turned in the corner of his eye. He was just sitting in the library at his laptop, a couple books open around him that he’d been using for research. He was about to turn the page himself when he thought he saw the movement. He looked over and the book was on the exact page he needed. He had brushed off the trick of the eyes and chalked it up to fatigue. But then yesterday, while he was talking to the case worker and to Magda’s family, he felt something was wrong about their stories. He knew Dean was wrong, too. He didn’t know how, but he just knew it. There were the clues he had put together, but there was also an indescribable feeling, a connection that Sam had long forgotten, that he felt while at the Peterson’s home. He understood it now to be a result of being near Magda, a young psychic with so much pent up resentment and anger. Her emotions were creating a tumultuous static field around Sam’s brain.

He hadn’t thought of it much until now, but maybe his psychic powers never really went away.

“Well, no, not anymore,” he answered her, but then he corrected, “I don’t think, but that didn’t make me the devil. It just made me who I am.”

Sam wasn’t sure if he could still consider himself a psychic, or even what the qualifications for that were, but he knew he had been one at one time and so it was forever a part of him. His time using those powers had helped to shape him into the person he was today, more understanding of nonhuman beings and people like Magda and himself. It helped him to see the gray where most hunters saw black or white. He had to help Magda see that, too. He couldn’t let her go on with such internalized self-hatred. She was just a kid, after all, much like he had been, and he never had someone there to tell him it was alright. But Magda had him, now, and he wasn’t wasting a chance to help her and do something right where others had been wrong.


End file.
